you will most likely never find me in a horde of people looking as though I’m in a place that carries comfort.
If I am, I assure you, I’m forcing my body to be at peace, to try to enjoy my surroundings. I’m never at ease in those situations.
they are few. they are far between. the path leading to them fades away more as the years pile on to my age.
I am not who I used to be, I’m a new person in an old body. I’m both familiar and unfamiliar, and this is what intrigues you.
on our terms
the most difficult thing I experienced with Jernee during her decline were the lucid moments. I feared becoming looped into their trap.
she wasn’t the same, and I knew that, heart & soul, but sometimes my baby would look up at me as if she recognized my face, and I’d be putty in five seconds.
“it’s only going to get worse” became the anthem in my home, followed by, “this sounds like a brain tumor,” and with each regressive instance, I was reassured…
I cut death to the quick, and offered it a seat at the table.
if it was going to take my baby, it’d be on our terms. but was it, though?
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-BookandPaperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutthe most recent events with a previous place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination, growth from the transition after resigning from that company, and life’s foibles and overall experiences. I welcome your visit.
A writing buddy had the above book delivered to me on Saturday, September 13, 2025. I’d viewed my camera/doorbell’s activity while I was visiting with my mother and noticed someone leaving a package. I hadn’t ordered anything, so my mind began racing about what it could be. Shortly after, I recalled a lovely and talented writing friend of mine requesting my mailing address; confirming it, really, and a lightbulb flickered.
Part of me wanted to get home to see what it could possibly be, and the other part of me wanted to remain right where I was with my mom, so as to not shed any more tears for the weekend.
I was happy to see the above book. Although I would mark the age range for this book for children, ages 4-12, anyone can benefit from reading Dog Heaven. It gave me all the feels and lifted me up during my deepest moments of sorrow.
After recently losing my sweet Little Monster of 17 years, I came home from visiting my mom and found this book at my door.
A writing buddy of mine had it sent to me. Knowing my connection and love for my dog, she thought it would be the perfect gesture. Someone she knows had the same book delivered to her shortly after she dealt with the loss of her dog.
Dog Heaven not only made me smile, but it calmed my heart. It allowed me to shed a few tears while reflecting on the best memories I have of my time spent with my little one. It made me believe my purpose was fulfilled with my dog.
Chock full of happy feelings, sweet illustrations, and a loving storyline for everyone to enjoy, Dog Heaven is a great book to gift to someone grieving and dealing with a fresh loss of their pet.
It’s a tiny glimmer of hope, sprinkled with joy, and wrapped in love.
Grief is going to continue to come in waves. Mourning will only be as beautiful and self-serving as I will allow it, but this book… this book helped me immediately after the change in my life felt like real change.
If you know anyone dealing with the loss of their pet, I recommend this book. It is truly near and dear to my heart now, and I could not have asked for anything better.
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-BookandPaperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutthe most recent events with a previous place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination, growth from the transition after resigning from that company, and life’s foibles and overall experiences. I welcome your visit.
Part IV: Jernee’s final bow; a sweet girl until the end.
The burial site, getting my girl all ready for an eternal dirt rest. Video captured by Tremaine L. Loadholt
Jernee and I, during the twilight phase of her rest before the final two doses to end her life. Photo Credit: Karen E. Mitchell
A kiss and some loving while Jernee was in a peaceful sleep. Photo Credit: Karen E. Mitchell
One final kiss to send my baby off. Photo Credit: Karen E. Mitchell
Jernee Timid right before the Vet and staff proceeded with her end-of-life process. Photo Credit: Karen E. Mitchell
Jernee has not had a full night’s rest in about a month. She snored so loudly during her twilight phase of this process. I could tell it was the best sleep ever. Photo Credit: Karen E. Mitchell
While we spent our final moments with Jernee, our vet’s office staff turned the light on to this box so the other patrons/pet owners could be aware and act accordingly. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
My Center Manager’s father-in-law made this grave marker for Jernee Timid. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Jernee’s final resting place… On my Center Manager’s land, under a huge tree that gets a lot of shade. I think she will be VERY happy here. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Karen and I. She flew up for this day. She wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Our eyes are puffy because we had been crying. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
The box we buried her in. Simple. Sleek. Just the right size. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
Tomorrow, I will spend some much-needed time with my mom in Greensboro, NC. It is her birthday weekend. She has mentioned I should not be worried about her, but birthdays are special to me, and I need to get out. The silence in my home is deafening, and I will have to get used to it, but… I want to live a little bit before sitting in the reality of what is now my life–one without Jernee Timid Loadholt.
For those of you who have been on this journey with my baby girl and I for seventeen years (or at least 5 to 10 of them), thank you. I hope you have come to know my sweet girl through me, and that she has touched you, too.
There will never be another dog like her, and I am in no hurry to get another one. I want to sit with the feel and quiet of the lack of Jernee around for quite some time. I donated so many of her belongings today: bowls, toys, collars & leashes, beds, clothing, and her crate. So many other pets will benefit from what we had to offer.
I will leave you with an excerpt from the most recent article I’ve shared about Jernee on Substack:
Overall, this day has been a journey of a lifetime. Now that I am without Jernee, what will I do? Who will I be? Where will my heart lead me next? I don’t know about all of you, but I am in no hurry to find out.
Laying Jernee to rest after a month of decline, illness, and constant changes to her mental state, I can finally breathe. Will I sleep soundly tonight? I do not know, but I welcome it if it is on the way.
I just lost the love of my life. I will never be the same. But isn’t that the purpose of something that changes you for the better—for you not to be the same once they have passed on… I think so.
I am who Jernee needed me to be, and with her death, I will have to be who I need me to be.
The circle of life bows with or without an encore.
Jernee’s toys. The only thing that is not going to AARFis the stuffed monkey. It will be buried with Jernee Timid. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
gathered the grand clan for donation, only a few didn’t make the cut–wear and tear met them where they stood.
other pets will have a chance to tackle a toy now that Jernee will no longer need them.
blankets, beds, a few items of clothing, and her crate are in the mix, too.
our home is the only lived-in space that will forever hold her scent, and I can’t give that away.
Have you gotten your copy of my new book: a collection of serial tales & flash fiction, Séduire (E-BookandPaperback) yet?
I recently signed up to write on Substack as well. Poking the Bear’s Belly for Fun is a place of healing as I speak aboutthe most recent events with my place of employment, as it pertains to racism and discrimination. I welcome your visit.
Part II: I have two jobs now; I didn’t know caretaking for a senior dog would be this hard.
August 22, 2025. Part I of a two-part video of a regular morning with Jernee, now as she continues to decline.
This is the first part of how our mornings go now that Jernee is no longer fully independent. She cannot hear. She cannot see. She is losing her faculties and is not truly aware of where she is and what to do.
Being a watchdog for your dog is crazy work, but I eagle-eye her like a hawk, trying my best to keep her safe and to comfort her. The facial expressions she wears now are a combination of confused, lost, sad, and frustrated. My baby girl rarely looks excited, happy, and free these days.
This is the video I cannot watch without breaking down; without losing my cool and feeling like a partial failure because of what’s happening to her. Logically, I know I am not at fault. I know this is God’s plan. We all have to make our grand exit off of this plane and onto the next, but tell that to my heart.
I don’t get much sleep. She wakes up at random hours during the night in a mild state of confusion, or she wants to go outside to potty, or it’s a combination of both.
When she’s whining, I know she’s confused, and she simply needs to be calmed down, so I soothe her and put her in the bed with me. Those moments are the hardest.
I have had to find new ways to keep her safe while I’m at home because if she cannot sense my presence, she will run around our apartment frantically until she can. If she knows I’m at home, she wants me near her, no questions about it.
Taking this into consideration and knowing I do not want her to injure herself, I place her bed we use for sitting outside on our balcony, in the kitchen and bathrooms so she can be around me. Wild, right?!
Yes, you may be saying to yourself, “Why are you doing this?!” But if you witness how terrified Jernee is when she knows I am home and she doesn’t sense me, you would understand.
Jernee Timid: sitting at our kitchen’s entrance in her bed while I prepare her and Zumi’s food, and clean up afterward. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt
When I do this, there is peace in our home. She isn’t whining. She isn’t terrified and panting from searching throughout our apartment for me. She isn’t alone. She knows Mommy isn’t too far away, and that comforts her.
And as long as she is comfortable and in a peaceful state, then I can be “right as rain.”
Please do not let anyone tell you that caring for a senior dog who is declining is easy. I am bearing witness and living through it, and can testify that it is not. It is a labor of love, and a multitude of patience should be in tow.
If you cannot love and you are not patient, do not become a dog owner. Eventually, you will have to endure the inevitable, and they deserve people who will walk calmly and lovingly alongside them toward the end.
Jernee Timid: Fading away from all that she knows.
August 23, 2025, before a short afternoon walk, I came into the living room from our bedroom and found Jernee like this.
If you have followed Jernee & I for a number of years, you know I document it all. From Jernee’s highlights to the downsides of being a pet mom.
She used to have a blog completely dedicated to her and our adventures. I think that is how I met many of you. Funny how I have forgotten what the name of that blog was. If any of you remember, please share it in the comments.
The last few years have been rough. Overall, this Little Monster has been the most magnificent companion. I could not have asked for a better dog.
She has been my peace. She has been my joy. She has been every ounce of love that I’ve needed in the witching hour.
Since my late cousin Chrissy’s death in February of 2022, I have learned a new way to approach death & dying. I face it head on; feel all the emotions that I need to–lose myself in it, and grieve… grieve… grieve.
The morning comes when the mourning is done.
Jernee Timid has been a firecracker since her very first day with me, which was May 28, 2008. She was six weeks old. She cried on the way home to Greensboro, North Carolina (at that time) from Wilmington, North Carolina, which is where she is from.
A reputable breeder sold her to me, and I whisked her away from her remaining brother and sister (Bella & Butler) of their litter. She wailed & wailed, and I thought, “I haven’t heard a dog cry like this since we picked up Nala (Mook’s first baby girl puppy) from her breeder.”
Jernee made such a ruckus, I had to pull over at a gas station about ten miles away, shift her from her doggy bed, and set her up comfortably in my lap for the remainder of the drive to her new home.
From that day, I knew she was going to get any and everything out of me that she wanted. She was spoiled from Day One.
She settled into our family like she belonged here–like she had previously claimed us, and she was just waiting for us to come and bring her home.
I have to remind myself that everyone cannot handle this level of decline in Jernee. Not many can endure the videos I will share. My kid brother, for example, lived with us for three years, and Jernee is his baby.
I’ve seen that kid go to war verbally about her, and I know for a fact he will beat a person down bare-handed if ever they wronged Jernee. He calls her Princess Jay or Jay Nasty (please don’t ask me why, the kid isn’t right! 😆🤣😂).
I’ve been sharing the videos with him, and he told me this evening, “Man, no matter how much we say we are good, we can never prepare for these things. Man, I keep watching this video, I started crying. It’s hard to see Jernee like this, fr, so I know you are exhausted. I’m praying for you, sis. I love you.”
He is the baby boy. I am ten years older than him. He has always had a special place in my heart, but he is the only one who can make me go from Zero to One Hundred in five seconds flat, too.
He cannot deal with the reality of this. He keeps telling me I’m strong and asking how can I record Jernee when she’s fading. My response to him, “How can I not? I love Jernee in life. I’m going to love Jernee in death. This is our reality now, until it’s not. I have recorded many happy times. I find it essential to record the sad times, too.”
So, I will. And if this is not going to be your thing, I get it. I understand it. It’s not easy to digest. But it is my baby girl’s life, and I will immerse myself in it until I have nothing left of her.
A Cornered Gurl 
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